


It never gets easier, you just get better.

by PoliticalPadmé (magnetgirl)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Addiction, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Dubious Consent, F/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22603642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnetgirl/pseuds/PoliticalPadm%C3%A9
Summary: Ben is an addict working through his pain. Rey is a counselor assigned to his care. They weren't supposed to fall in love.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41
Collections: For one is both and both are one in love: The Reylo Fanfiction Anthology's Valentine's Day Exchange





	It never gets easier, you just get better.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MyJediLife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyJediLife/gifts).



Rey glanced at the clock to find nine minutes had passed in silence. Ben sat on the sofa across from her, his tall frame curled in on himself, staring at the floor and at the dirt under his fingernails and anywhere at all except at her. She pursed her lips.

“I thought we’d moved past this.”

They’d been meeting for nearly five months. Court ordered sessions every other week, but recently she’d been helping him prepare for life after rehab. They’d gone to a resume workshop and signed up for a cooking class and visited a handful of museums. She preferred dinosaurs but he could stare at a painting for actual hours and finally admitted he dabbled in art himself. He was meant to be showing her a sketchbook, she’d looked forward to it, but instead he was sullen and sulking and as incommunicative as their first meeting. Maybe even more so, at least then he’d lashed out.

“I got my assignment.” His voice was a low rumble that filled the room. His eyes remained on the floor, and his shoulders slumped. There was none of the excitement or relief he’d exhibited when they’d started to discuss halfway programs or explore his options. He’d been eager to get started… but maybe it was the difference between wanting to be ready and feeling ready. Recovery was a long process with lots of stops and starts.

She clasped her hands “That’s a big step.”

Ben’s head shot up, so suddenly she had to swallow a gasp. “I’m not afraid,” he sneered.

Rey frowned. “I didn’t say you were.”

This, too, was a step back. He had a lot of anger, a lot of fear, held over from a childhood of isolation and the expectation of a stiff upper lip. It drove him to the reckless and destructive behaviors that resulted in court mandated rehab in the first place. But they’d made such strides. She took a breath, prepared to probe these feelings, but he continued— 

“It’s in Seattle.”

Rey’s eyes went wide in shock cut with sorrow. She quickly forced her expression into something resembling neutrality, but he’d seen it. And his sharp intake of breath meant he’d interpreted it as, well, much closer to partial than neutral.

A month ago, or two, she’d dropped by the center unannounced. Surprise visits were also court mandated. Rey hated them. A surprise visit to her childhood home had landed her in the system. It was why she’d become a counselor, why she’d dedicated her life to restorative justice and reclamation. But it was also why she’d lost her family and why it took her hours to fall asleep no matter how tired she was. 

But however she felt, surprise visits were required and she wanted Ben and others like him to succeed. So one random Wednesday morning she popped into his room without an appointment and with barely a warning and she found him sober, barefoot, and shirtless. And if she was honest that was the moment everything changed.

Addiction wreaks havoc on a body as well as a soul, but Ben used exercise to fight off his demons. His naked chest was muscular and tight and she couldn’t look away or hide her attraction. It was awkward and highly inappropriate and should have been uncomfortable but instead it felt right. Ben’s eyes shone with relief that his attraction was reciprocated, that their connection didn’t exist only in his head. Rey was flustered and they hadn’t discussed it, not beyond her request he cover up and the smirk he’d flashed as he acquiesced. But their relationship deepened and settled. He opened up to her and showed marked progress. That his request to move out of the secure program was approved proved it. She just had to explain that to him.

Rey took a deep breath and smiled brightly. “I think Seattle will be good for you,” she started, intending to suggest the space would work in their favor, would facilitate him finding another counselor and allow their relationship to shift. But she didn’t get the chance.

“You’re throwing me away,” Ben accused.

Rey shook her head. “We’ll talk on the phone, we can skype, text… we can talk every day.” She reached a hand toward him but he jerked away.

“But we won’t.” He swallowed, eyes dark with pain. “I know how this goes.”

Ben had grown up in the spotlight. His mother was a prominent politician from a line of prominent politicians. She was driven and outspoken and worked tirelessly for her constituents and her causes— and her family suffered. Leia didn’t mean it to happen but they were forced to live with the scrutiny of the public and the inattention of the senator. Her brother became a hermit, Ben’s father would leave for months at a time and Ben was left behind. He turned to chat groups that encouraged him to violence and was an angry drunk before he was fifteen. Desperate to help, and keep it out of the news, is parents sent him to Uncle Luke, who’d had some successes with teaching mindfulness to address mental illness and addiction. But the move only compounded Ben’s feelings of abandonment and increased his paranoia. He lashed out, attacked Luke’s other patients and was forced to leave. Years went by, Ben struggled with his demons, his rage, and his alcoholism alone, refusing to speak to the family he blamed for the whole situation. His father eventually reached out, they’d just started reconnecting when a reporter’s offhand remark about his mother’s potential run at the presidency sent him into a spiral. He went on a days long binge, became suicidal and when his father showed up to wrest the gun away he was shot and killed. Ben pleaded to involuntary manslaughter and was sentenced to this rehab program. He was difficult— she was the third counselor assigned to his case and the first to reach him in any meaningful way. But his wounds went back years. He’d failed his family, but they failed him, too.

Compassion filled Rey’s eyes. She’d grown up wondering why her parents never came for her, knew that loneliness was a hard habit to break.

“Ben-”

He leaned close, suddenly, almost violently, he didn’t know what to do with his body sometimes.

“Come with me.”

Caught off guard, Rey’s eyes went wide.

“What?”

“Come with me,” he repeated, urgency replacing his earlier reticence. Rey felt dizzy at the abrupt change. “There’s nothing for you here.”

“I can’t…” she stammered. “Ben. I can’t.”

His eyes turned again, anger built a wall between them and he launched from the sofa in a storm. Rey leapt up, hand outstretched. He recoiled at her touch.

“None of this will love you back,” he growled. “None of it will make you whole.”

“I’m here to help you.” Her eyes pleaded for him to listen but he shook his head.

“You surround yourself with broken things so you don’t have to look at your own damage. So you don’t have to think about how ugly you feel, how ugly you are!” Rey flinched as if he’d slapped her. Regret briefly flickered in his eyes but the hurt was too deep and he pulled back, shoulders straight, a looming tower of fury. Rey blinked at tears.

“Don’t do this. Please.”

Silence stretched between them a long moment. 

Ben looked away. “You’re just like everyone else.” And he stormed out of the room.

Six months went by without a word. Rey tried to resume her life, but she was haunted. She had a good life in New York. She had her job, she had friends, she had purpose. She had happiness, but there was an illusory quality to it she couldn't quite reconcile. She got coffee, she went on dates, she helped people— she _saved lives_. But still she felt empty. Disconnected. Like she had a phantom limb.

Then one morning a file came across her desk and everything changed again. 

Life on the water was anonymous, everyone was running from something, no one wanted to talk. Ben could be anyone, or more pertinently, no one. The hours were long and he worried his hands would never be warm again, but the work was oddly fulfilling. He was given a task and he completed it. No one questioned the value of any of it. No one cared where he came from or where he went as long as he showed up on time. His body was tired, his mind was distracted, and he could bury his heart in a box. 

"Ben."

He blinked, not trusting his eyes. She visited him in dreams too many nights to count. 

"I..." Her voice trailed away and she blushed— or maybe her cheeks were flushed in the cold, but it was their pink that drew him in. The rush of blood, the evidence of pique, the proof of life. He shook his head, afraid to believe. Rey bit her lip and the blush deepened and his cheek was wet. "I wanted someone to come for me." He frowned. She took a deep breath. "My parents didn't fight for me. They didn't look for me."

"Maybe they tried," he blurted. "Or maybe they wanted to and didn't know how."

She drew a sharp intake of breath. "Maybe..."

His lip trembled. "Rey..."

She reached a hand out to touch his cheek. "I can’t be your counselor." He was seeing someone regularly, as required by the program. She received the paperwork he'd been officially released from her care and within 48 hours she was in Seattle. It was ridiculous. And it was right. She finally felt _right._

He nodded. He understood, and he didn't want that, anyway. He wanted—

He wanted...

He wanted.

"I’m not sure I can be your friend," she continued in a whisper. Her cheeks were wet, too.

"Why are you here?" Ben held her gaze. He'd never wanted to push her away or pull her close so much as he did right now.

"Because... because there's no such thing as an ugly duckling."

Ben's face fell as his last words to her flooded his memory. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. He wished he could take it back. He wished he could disappear. But she grabbed his hand.

"No. There's no such thing as an ugly duckling." She stepped closer, raised his hand to rest on her heart. "That's the point of the story."

"I thought the point of the story was don't try to be something you're not because what you are is better."

Rey grasped his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was sudden and rough and his stomach dropped and tears sprung into his eyes and if it was a dream he never wanted to wake up. But he pulled back and met her eyes and brushed her lips with his fingers in disbelief.

"I missed you," she admitted and the tears rolled down his cheek.

"Nothing about you is ugly," he asserted and she grinned widely and kissed him again.

Recovery was a long process with lots of stops and starts. Nothing would be solved overnight. But they had a lifetime, if they chose to take it.

And so they did.


End file.
